


Paralysis

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Shiro regains some memories, They're not good ones, very vaguely implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 12:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11402493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: "Shiro... Takashi..." Keith tries with greater gentleness. Is it just him or is Shiro's face growing paler by the second? "Whatever it is that's bothering you, you can tell me.""I can't.""Of course you can. You can tell me anything.""Not this.""Why not?""You... You won't think of me the same way. You won'tlookat me the same way again."





	Paralysis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chiapslock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiapslock/gifts).



> In the Sheith Big Bang discord chat, we were talking about different tropes and hurt/comfort naturally came up. And they specifically mentioned this idea which made me go "Hang on, gonna write this real fast BRB." 
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings: Allusion that Shiro was raped/an unwilling participant in sexual acts during his time as a prison with the Galra. There are no details of it, it's not even stated. But it's heavily implied regardless.**

Shiro's stiff as a board sitting on the bed, shoulders tense in a way Keith hasn't seen in... well. _ever_.

 

His steps are heavy with uncertainty because he's not sure what to do, what to say. He's not Shiro or Hunk, or even Lance. Keith doesn't know how to be truly delicate when talking to someone about what's affecting them. It's not that he's not capable of kindness or gentleness. It's just that... Keith feels this situation is beyond his capabilities. He's not sure he can do this with the necessary amount of delicacy.

 

But this is Shiro and he's hurting in some way. So Keith makes that effort for him. 

 

Which doesn't mean he doesn't feel as clumsy as the time he was 6 and tried to help a baby bird back into its nest when he sits down next to Shiro, keeping careful distance between them because something about any and all physical touches is upsetting Shiro today. His weight sinks into the mattress with a soft, barely discernable noise. Shiro's body remains tightly wound with tension.

 

"Are you okay?" Keith starts with a safe question.

 

Shiro lets out a humorless laugh, dead and heavy. "If I was okay you wouldn't be here."

 

It's a matter of fact but it hurts. Keith manages not to show it hurts but his stomach twists. Keith forces himself to relax, to adopt a more open and relaxed air before trying again. "What's wrong, Shiro"

 

Shiro shakes his head. Too quickly and too controlled. Keith's eyes lower to stare at the way Shiro's clutching at himself while crossing his arms. Does he feel a loss of control? What could possibly be upsetting Shiro this much? He looks like if he stopped holding himself so tightly, he'd fly away or fall to pieces.

 

"Shiro... Takashi..." Keith tries with greater gentleness. Is it just him or is Shiro's face growing paler by the second? "Whatever it is that's bothering you, you can tell me."

 

"I can't." The utterly wounded manner in which Shiro pushes those words out has Keith's brows furrowing.

 

_What's that supposed to mean? That Shiro can't?_

 

"Of course you can. You can tell me anything."

 

"Not this."

 

"Why not?"

 

Shiro's knuckles turn white under Keith's worried gaze. "You... You won't think of me the same way. You won't _look_ at me the same way again."

 

The words come out low and reluctant. It's not an explanation Shiro wants to give. It's not a topic Shiro's comfortable talking about. His first assumption is that Shiro's regained more memories of his time in the arena. Perhaps he's remembered a time where he was forced to fight and kill another innocent alien, someone plucked from their home plant and forced into the gladiatorial arena for the pleasure of the Galran soldiers. 

 

Keith bites the inside of his bottom lip and wonders if it's wise to push further. If it's this upsetting to Shiro then maybe he should give Shiro his space. The last thing Keith wants is to trigger more painful memories. But the decision is taken away from him when Shiro's grip shifts. Keith catches a flash of a pained expression before its hidden between Shiro's palms. He moves forward before he realizes it but catches himself before his hand connects with Shiro's back. It twitches with the desire to comfort Shiro as the other man lets out a low, pained keen.

 

"I don't want to remember this," Shiro moans pitifully. Something cracks inside Keith, causing him to sit up on bed and hug Shiro against him. It's a useless effort in protecting Shiro because whatever memories have returned, come back merciless and fiercely. His heart bleeds from where Shiro's choked voice cuts into its flesh. "I don't want to remember how they took me away. What they did to me. How much it _hurt_."

 

 _I guess I was wrong_. _Is Shiro remembering more experiments?_ Keith wonders as Shiro hides against the high collar of Keith's jacket. He whispers senseless words to soothe Shiro, wishing he could do more. They're a useless balm, akin to trying to staunch a deep cut on the jugular with a used bandaid. But still Keith tries. He holds Shiro as close as he can in the hopes that maybe some of his body heat will transfer into Shiro's body and warm him up, starting a chain reaction that will help Shiro feel better.

 

A ticklish shiver runs down his spine when Shiro presses the tip of his cold nose against Keith's throat. He feels his blood turning to ice at the next words Shiro confides into his skin. Keith _feels_ his fingertips turning ice cold in a flash even as his blood roars in his ear. The whisper was barely audible but Keith had caught it and it left no room for misunderstanding. 

 

Fury like he's rarely known before sweeps through him but it doesn't warm him up. His hands are cold when he squeezes Shiro's shoulders tighter, whispering reassurances into Shiro's sweaty brow. "I won't let them take you. You won't ever have to do that again Shiro. _Never_. As long as I'm around, you'll never have to be with anyone you don't want to be with."

 

Shiro's body curls into him and Keith accepts it. He'll take on all of Shiro's demons and beat them down until his knuckles are bloody. Until his hands are nothing but  _bones_. He'd do that willingly and repeatedly if it means Shiro attaining the peace he deserves. Keith squeezes his eyes shut, telling himself to calm down.  _This isn't the time. Focus on Shiro. Make sure he's okay. Once he is, then you can let your anger out_.

 

It's hard but Keith does it because he has too. Because this is about Shiro. He's not sure how much time passes, how long it takes for Shiro to stop trembling, but eventually, a weary Shiro falls to sleep. It's not the kind of sleep he's been having on the Castle. No. The 'new' Shiro is a light sleeper, waking up at the slightest sound (a confession Shiro had shared far too glibly and jokingly with a worried Keith during one of their many group training sessions). 

 

This sleep? Where Shiro doesn't stir when Keith carefully removes himself from Shiro's grip? It reminds him of a Shiro lost to the past. 

 

The memory fans the embers of his rage, making him bite his tongue to stop himself from letting out the string of angry curses that sit on the tip of his tongue. 

 

 _Not here_ , Keith tells himself, hurriedly leaving the room and walking down the hallway.  _In the training room. With the Gladiator_. 

 

His hands itch with the desire to hit something. To  _hurt_. To make the Galra  _pay_ for the crimes they've committed, for the agony they inflicted on Shiro and countless others. 

 

Fighting the Gladiator isn't going to be enough. Keith wants to do more. He needs to do something that'll  _matter_.

 

He stops and turns on his heels immediately, changing directions towards the control room instead. Allura is sure to be there. And she is. Her disinterested eyes check him as he enters the room before returning, this time wide with alarm and concern.

 

"Keith?" she asks, stepping down from her raised platform. "What is it?"

 

"I need you to open up a wormhole to the nearest Galra port." He enunciates his desire clearly, with all the sharp precision of a surgical blade. 

 

Allura's jewel-bright eyes narrow in confusion. "Why?"

 

Keith curls his fingers into a fist, tightening them until a fine tremble runs through his body due to the effort. With barely restrained anger, he says, "I just need you to do it!"

 

"But  _why_? There is absolutely no reason to-"

 

"There's  _every_ reason!" The dam finally breaks. Allura takes a startled step back as he angrily says, "After everything that the Galra have done, we don't  _need_ a reason to go out there and defeat! And isn't that supposed to be the whole point of this? To fight the Galra and defeat them? So just, open a wormhole and I'll take Red with me and..."

 

"Keith." 

 

It's not Allura who addresses him. It's the Princess. The girl who has been raised to be a leader to her people since she was young. And now, a war general who has inherited a war she never wanted but accepted the mantle for anyways. Her stern gaze cuts his righteous fury in half, leaving behind stubborn mulishness that shuts his mouth but keeps his gaze defiant. 

 

"We cannot take such a foolish risk just because you're feeling particularly angry at the Galra." 

 

 _Bullshit_ , a voice mutters in Keith's head but he keeps it to himself.  

 

He crosses his arms instead, a muscle twitching in his jaw. The risk doesn't matter. Keith's confident of his skills - he'll go on a rampage and be back before anyone is even aware of his absence. And when he returns, he can tell Shiro that he-

 

Something in Allura's gaze shifts, gentles. She touches his arm before gently telling him, "Remember your anger. Take strength from it. But don't let it guide you. We cannot let our emotions get the better of us. We need to smarter than that."

 

"I take strength from my emotions," Keith grinds out, taking a step back. 

 

Allura's fingers fall back to her side. Her gaze hardens before turning clear in revelation. With new concern, she asks, "Does this have anything to do with Shiro's mood? Did you find out why he was so upset when the  _Vexol_ ambassador greeted him?"

 

He doesn't say anything but Keith must give  _something_ away because Allura lets out an understanding noise. Keith tries not to feel embarrassed at how he's like an open book when it comes to Shiro. "I won't ask you to tell me what happened. But my point stands," her voice is gentle and strong in a way that reminds him of trees - flexible when needed but firmly rooted in Earth. "you cannot go on a rampage all because the Galra hurt Shiro. Not yet. Remember this hurt until we are fighting the Galra again. Then you can let your fury rage. For now... I cannot do what you ask of me."

 

"But I need to..." Keith's  _truly_ embarrassed now thanks to the way his voice cracks. Twice so when wetness burns in the corner of his eyes. 

 

Allura pulls his hands free and gives them a squeeze so hard it makes Keith's wrists  _ache_. Bitter impotence well in him when she tells him, "I understand your anger. I  _truly_ do. But please try to understand. There's more at stake here."

 

He knows this.  _He knows it_. But. He needs to do something. _Anything._..

 

 _Shiro_...  _I'm so sorry_.

 

With a hurt, mournful noise, Keith hangs his head in defeat. 

 

 _I'm sorry I can't do anything to help you_.


End file.
